


Levi Ackerman: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street

by wowokthenbruh



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Cannibalism, F/M, Gen, M/M, Might add more tags, Murder, Nile wants its to happen, Rape (im sorry), Sweeney Todd AU, but thats cause he is a gross mofo, dark!Hanji, dark!levi, i mean it doesnt actually happen..., kinda? pedophilia, lots of death, my first musical inspired fanfic, of course I chose the one with death and shit, simpleton!Eren
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-18
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-03-31 03:43:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3963109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wowokthenbruh/pseuds/wowokthenbruh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was a barber and his love.</p><p>And he was beautiful.</p><p>A proper artist with a knife.</p><p>And they transported him for life.</p><p>And he was beautiful...</p><p>Rivaille Smith was deported from Britain fifteen years ago. Levi Ackerman returned fifteen years later. Armed with silver razors and an insane pie maker, he has a plan to exact his revenge on the man who ruined his life, Judge Dok.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. There's No Place Like London!

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, wow. I know I've been on hiatus for like ten million years, but I'm back! WITH MURDER! Yay. So sit back, enjoy, and read about Levi and Hanji getting ready to murder all of London.

London was dark. Anyone could see that, even if they were as wanderlust as Jean Kirstein, a young foreigner coming in to England for the first time. His dirty blonde hair was ruffling in the breeze as he stared at the slowly rising London Bridge.

“I have sailed the world, beheld its wonders from the Dardanelles to the mountains of Peru, but there's no place like London!” He says jovially. He makes as though to speak again and is interrupted by a dark baritone. 

“No, there’s no place like London…”

Jean turns and is met with the sight of Levi Ackerman, a rather short man with black hair in an undercut and cold, piercing eyes with black bags underneath them. They had picked him up off a raft on the coast of Australia, half dead and unkempt. No one had asked questions as to why he was there, but they all knew at the back of their minds that he must have been an escaped convict.

“Sir?” Jean asks. Levi steps closer to the bow of the ship, gripping the handrail in a tight grip. His pale, almost colorless eyes stare out at the foggy bay.

“You are young.” He says softly, his voice almost unheard over the crashing of the waves. “Life has been kind to you. You will learn…”

Jean gulped and turned back to the surf. In a few minutes, he is standing on the dock with Levi, a small bag in hand. Levi, he notes, has nothing save the clothes on his back. 

“It is here we go our several ways. Farewell, Jean, I will not soon forget the good ship Bountiful, nor the young man who saved my life.” Levi says.

Jean smiles, and replies, “There's no cause to thank me for that, sir. It would have been a poor Christian indeed who'd have spotted you pitching and tossing on that raft and not given the alarm.” Levi stares at him blankly, making the young man shuffle awkwardly. Levi spoke again, his voice dark.

“There's many a Christian would have done just that and not lost a wink's sleep for it, either.”

As they walked through the streets of London, a huge beggar man is hunched over on the street, his ragged clothes making his frame even more huge.

“Alms...! Alms...! For a miserable man!” He calls pathetically, holding out his filthy hand. “On a miserable chilly morning…”

Jean, struck with pity, placed a few coins in the man’s palm, grimacing at the slimy texture. “Thank yer, sir, thank yer…” whispers the beggar, and his wrist is suddenly grabbed and Jean is looking into crazed, bloodshot eyes.

“'Ow would you like a little squiff, dear, a little jig jig, a little bounce around the bush? Wouldn't you like to push me crumpet? It looks to me, dear, like you got plenty there to push!” He screeches. The sailor tugs his arm away, shocked. The beggar man turns to Levi, pathetically.

The beggar man croons, “Alms…! Alms…! For a pitiful man! Wot's got wanderin' wits…” He tries to grab at Levi’s ankles, and the dark haired man backs away, scowling. The beggar man looks up, his face obscured by a big hat and years worth of dust and dirt from the harsh times. “Hey, don't I know you, mister?” He asks, a bit of sanity peeking through. Levi bristles and shouts, “Must you glare at me, man? Off with you, off, I say!”

The beggar grabs at Levi and starts rambling again. “Then 'ow would you like to fish me squiff, mister? We'll go jig jig, a little-” Levi cuts him off, shouting, “Off, I said. To the devil with you!”

He scuttles away, turns to give him a piercing look, then wanders off, all the while moaning, “Alms..! Alms…! For a desperate man…”

Jean turns to the still furious Levi, who was scowling at the beggar. The sailor tries to placate him, saying, “Pardon me, sir, but there's no need to fear the likes of him. He was only a half-crazed beggar man. London's full of them.”

Levi sneers and tugs his threadbare coat closer to himself. “I beg your indulgence, boy.” His voice had returned to that soft whisper that was still able to carry across the hustle and bustle of London. “My mind is far from easy, for in these once-familiar streets, I feel the chill of ghostly shadows everywhere. Forgive me.” He didn't sound sincere for that plea of forgiveness, yet Jean tried to gloss over that.

“There's nothing to forgive.” He replies, smiling. Levi stares at him, as though perplexed by his naivety.

“Farewell, Jean.” He says simply, pulling his coat closer and turning as if to go. Jean stops him, saying, “ Mr. Ackerman, before we part-”

“What is it?” Levi asks, a bit irritated. Jean steels himself up, and says, “I have honored my promise never to question you. Whatever brought you to that sorry shipwreck is your affair. And yet, during those many weeks of the voyage home, I have come to think of you as a friend and, if trouble lies ahead for you in London... if you need help- or money…”

He is cut off by an adamant, “No!” Jean stares at him, perplexed, as Levi begins to talk rapidly, the most Jean had ever heard him speak.

“There's a hole in the world like a great black pit, and the vermin of the world inhabit it, and its morals aren't worth what a pig could spit, and it goes by the name of London. At the top of the hole sit the privileged few, making mock of the vermin in the lower zoo, turning beauty into filth and greed. I too have sailed the world and seen its wonders, for the cruelty of men is as wondrous as Peru, but there's no place like London!” He spits out the last word with disgust, his pale eyes wide.

Jean is looking at the man in shock, as Levi starts to talk as if in a trance, looking back at a London that was light and beautiful, before it became this dark city that was crawling with vermin and greed.

“There was a barber and his love, and he was beautiful. A foolish barber and his love. He was his reason and his life, and he was beautiful. And he was virtuous. And the barber was…” Levi pauses, his grip on the fabric of his coat so tight he was tearing it. “Naive…”

Levi suddenly turned to Jean, pinning him with his intense stare. “There was another man that he was beautiful, a pious vulture of the law who with a gesture of his claw, removed the barber from his plate. Then there was nothing but to wait and he would fall, so soft, so young, so lost, And oh, so beautiful!” A ripping sound was heard as finger shaped holes were cut into the thin coat. Levi stared down at his coat, as though amazed he had done such a thing.

Jean cleared his throat hesitantly, calling Levi’s attention back to him. “And your love, sir… Did he succumb?” He asks, nervously. Levi removed his fingers from their new fabric holes, and replied quietly, “Oh, that was many years ago... I doubt if anyone would know. “

“Now, leave me, Jean, I beg of you. There's somewhere I must go, something I must find out. Now. And alone.” Levi says, shoving his hands into his pockets. Jean gapes at him indignantly.

“But surely we will meet again before I'm off to Plymouth!” He replies, gripping his bag tightly. Levi sighs and speaks, a bit resignedly, “If you want, you may well find me. Around Fleet Street, I wouldn't wonder.”

Jean smiles and claps Levi on the shoulder, making him scowl. “Well, until then, Mr. Ackerman.” The sailor heads down the road, whistling a happy tune that didn’t blend in with dark streets.

Levi stares at Jean for a few minutes, until he faded away from sight. Softly, he begins to mutter, “There's a hole in the world like a great black pit, and it's filled with people who are filled with shit, and the vermin of the world inhabit it…”

He turns abruptly and starts making his way towards Fleet Street. He remembered there had been a pie shop underneath his barber shop, run by a long widowed woman. Perhaps she would know what happened after he had been sent to Australia, but more importantly, what had happened to his precious Erwin and Armin.


	2. Worst Pies In London/Poor Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING! This is the chapter where there is a rape mention. It's not explicit, but I'm still putting it here in case it triggers anyone. Other than that, we are now introduced to Hanji, the worst pie maker in London!

Levi stood in front of the shabby looking pie shop. It never had been a particularly fine establishment, especially considering it was right under his then successful barber shop. But this was a new low. The shutters were dark and creepy looking, and the door was half rotten.

Levi pushed at the door and was repulsed as it fell down, giving view to a skinny, bespectacled woman with greasy brown hair in a ponytail. The woman shrieked in fright, waving a butchers knife dripping with animal blood and fat in self defense, but gasped as she saw that it wasn't the wind messing with the door, but an actual human.

"A customer!" She squeals with happiness, jamming the knife into the table. Levi backed away but was tugged inside by the woman.

"Wait! What's yer rush? What's yer hurry? You gave me such a fright. I thought you was a ghost! Half a minute, can'tcher sit? Sit ye down!" She says rapidly, pushing Levi into a threadbare chair. "Sit! All I meant is that I haven't seen a customer for weeks. Did you come here for a pie, sir?"

She barely let him answer, sticking her hand in the burning oven and plucking a mouldy looking pie out onto a grimy plate, barely wincing at the hot exterior.

"Do forgive me if me head's a little vague- Ugh! What is that?" She stamped furiously on the floor, making Levi raise an eyebrow. "But you'd think we had the plague! From the way that people keep avoiding- No you don't!" The woman smacks her hand on the table and wipes it on her apron. 

"Heaven knows I try, sir! Ick! But there's no one comes in even to inhale-Tsk! Right you are, sir. Would you like a drop of ale?"

Levi nods and stares at the rather sad looking pie on his plate. He hesitantly picks it up and wrinkles his nose at the greasy texture. The man looks over at the bottle of ale on the cooking table longingly.

"Mind you, I can't hardly blame them," the woman sighs, her face worn. "These are probably the worst pies in London, I know why nobody cares to take them, I should know, I make them. But good? No, the worst pies in London- Even that's polite. The worst pies in London! If you doubt it, take a bite."

Levi, trying to appease the woman, takes a bite and almost spits it back up again. Never had he eaten something so dis-

"Is that just disgusting? You have to concede it. It's nothing but crusting- Here, drink this," She hands him a jug of ale, "You'll need it. The worst pies in London, and no wonder with the price of meat!” She is now kneading a glob of dough furiously, her face turning pink with exertion. “What it is, when you get it. Never thought I'd live to see the day! Men'd think it was a treat finding poor animals, wot are dying in the street!"

Levi tries to interject, but around the pie and her incessant rambling, he's having a rather difficult time completing the action.

"Mrs. Mooney has a pie shop, does a business, but I notice something weird- Lately all her neighbors' cats have disappeared! Have to hand it to her, wot I calls enterprise, popping pussies into pies.” She rolls the dough on top of a pie, not noticing a roach crawl in before she’s done. Levi gulps and grabs the ale, drinking it quickly. “Wouldn't do in my shop! Just the thought of it's enough to make you sick."

She sighs and runs a hand through her hair. "And I'm telling you, them pussy cats is quick. No denying times is hard, sir, even harder than the worst pies in London. Only lard and nothing more-” Levi tries to take another bite for politeness sake but is forced to spit it back out on the the plate.

"Is that just revolting? All greasy and gritty, it looks like it's molting, and tastes like-" She takes a look at Levi's green face and pouts.

"Well, pity... A woman alone... with limited wind, and the worst pies in London! Ah sir..." She looks at her customer, smiling sadly. "Times is hard. Times is hard..."

She notices Levi trying with bravado to not hurl and she laughs softly. “Spit it out, dear. Go on. On the floor. There's worse things than that down there.” She goes to get him more ale, as not even the water could be trusted in London. “Don’ know if I introduced meself yet, but people call me Hanji. Or Missus. Zoe. Depends on whom ye ask!”

Levi gulps down the drink, trying to get the taste out of his mouth. “Ah…” He sets down the canteen, his face stony. “Isn't that a room up there over the shop? If times are so hard, why don't you rent it out? That should bring in something.”

Hanji shook her head. “Up there? Oh, no one will go near it. People think it's haunted. You see, years ago, something happened up there. Something not very nice.”

The man raised an eyebrow, but on the inside, his stomach was twisting into knots. “Care to tell me?” Hanji sighed and sat down next to him. “Aye, but it’s a long story…”

Soon, she straightened up, and began to tell her tale.

“There was a barber and his love, and he was beautiful. A proper artist with a knife, but they transported him for life. And he was beautiful…” She bit her lip, thinking. “Rivaille, his name was. Rivaille Smith. Took his love’s last name when they wed.”

“Transported? What was his crime?” Levi asks softly, gripping the seat with a vice like grip. Hanji turned to him, her face sad. “Foolishness… He had his love, ye see? Handsome thing. Silly man, had his chance for the moon on a string… Poor thing. Poor thing.”

Levi closed his eyes, imagining Erwin’s handsome young face, his bright blonde hair, his clear blue eyes. Age might have matured his features, but he would still be forever handsome in Levi’s eyes…

“There were these two, you see, wanted him like mad. One of 'em a Judge, T'other one his Beadle. Every day they'd nudge and they'd wheedle. But he wouldn't budge from his needle. Too bad! Pure thing…” Levi’s eyes snapped open. He knew the Judge had thrown him out on a false charge, but to do it to get closer to Erwin. He clenched his fists, feeling his blood boil. Hanji noticed none of this and continued to tell her story.

“So they merely shipped the poor bugger off south, they did, leaving him with nothing but grief and a year-old kid. Did he use his head even then? Oh no, God forbid! Poor fool. Ah, but there was worse yet to come… Poor thing...” Hanji hesitated again, to Levi’s frustration. “Armin, the baby’s name was! Handsome, little Armin!”

“Go on.” Levi says darkly. Hanji looks at him, smirking. “My, you do like a good story, don't you? Well, Beadle Annie calls on him, all polite, poor thing, poor thing. The Judge, he tells him, is all contrite, he blames himself for his dreadful plight, he must come straight to his house tonight! Poor thing, poor thing. Of course, when he goes there, poor thing, poor thing, they're havin' this ball all in masks! There's no one he knows there, poor dear, poor thing. He wanders tormented, and drinks, poor thing. The Judge has repented, he thinks, poor thing. "Oh, where is Judge Dok?" he asks.”

Levi is feeling as though he wants to throw up. Erwin was too strong to be overthrown by a skinny man as Dok! But Levi knew Erwin was never one to hold his liquor, and he could become a dead weight when he does drink…

Hanji continues, her eyes almost filling with tears as she tells the tale. “He was there, all right- Only not so contrite! He wasn't no match for such craft, you see, and everyone thought it so droll. They figured he had to be daft, you see, so all of 'em stood there and laughed, you see. Poor soul! Poor thing!” She wailed out the last bit, along with Levi who let out a howl of despair.

“NO!” He screeched, his eyes wide with fear and pain, as though he was the one suffering the fate Erwin did. “Would no one have mercy on him?”

Hanji’s mouth is in a gape, her eyes under her spectacles shining. “So it is you! Rivaille Smith!” Levi, or better known as Rivaille, growled, “Not Rivaille! NOT RIVAILLE! Its Levi now! Levi Ackerman. Where is he?”

“So changed! Good God, what did they do to you down there in bloody Australia or wherever?” She asks, still in awe.

“Where is my husband? Where is Erwin?” Levi screams. At the back of his mind, he’s surprised no one had come to investigate the loud noises.

Hanji whimpered and huge tears pooled at the edges of her eyes. “He… He poisoned himself. Arsenic from the apothecary on the corner. I tried to stop him but he wouldn't listen to me…” She starts to bawl, but Levi stares at her without remorse. Trying to ignore the pain in his chest, he bites out. “And… And our son?”

Hanji gulps, wiping her eyes. “A-Armin? He’s got him…”

“Him… You don’t mean Judge Dok?!” He asks, his voice hoarse.

“Even he had a conscience tucked away, I suppose. Adopted him like his own. You could say it was good luck for him!” She’s interrupted by Levi letting out an angry scream. “...almost.”

“Fifteen years sweating in a living hell on a trumped up charge. Fifteen years dreaming that, perhaps, I might come home to a loving husband and child!” He breathes slowly, his eyes crazed. “Let them quake in their boots... Dok and the Beadle… for their hour has come.” He whispers, his words dripping with venom.

Hanji stared at him in awe. “You're going to — get 'em? You? A bleeding little nobody of a runaway convict?” She snorts, crossing her arms. “Don't make me laugh. You'll never get His 'igh and Mightiness! Nor the Beadle, neither. Not in a million years. You got any money? Listen to me! You got any money?” She asks him, trying to penetrate his spaced out, anger filled aura.

Levi blinks and scowls. “No money…” Hanji flails her hands, exclaiming, “Then how you going to live even?” Levi glowers and yells, “ I'll live! If I have to sweat in the sewers or in the plague hospital, I'll live- and I'll have them.” His last sentence was spoken with such relish that it made Hanji shudder.

“You poor thing… Why, you poor thing…” She bites her lip, and brightens suddenly. “Wait!” She pushed Levi back into the chair he earlier occupied and bustled out of the room, leaving Levi with his murderous heart, roaches, and the burning pies in the oven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Levi, Erwin, and Armin! It just gets worser. But ay, kudos and comments are much appreciated!!


	3. My Friends/Green Finch And Linnet Bird/Johanna

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Razors, birds, and a first love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING! Minor gore, sad flashbacks, and creepy Nile being gross.

Hanji rushes back into the room, twin pink spots on her cheeks. In her hands is a wooden box that looks as though it had been in good shape many years ago, but had become worn with age and decay. She smiles brightly and places them on the table in front of Levi. Levi glared halfheartedly and took the box. As he pulled it closer, he suddenly stopped. His breath became short as his trembling hands ran over the small, rusting plate in front of the lock.

_‘For my favorite barber in all of London. Use them well. ~Erwin’_

__

Levi gulped back tears as he flipped the small latch and opened the box. While the exterior was decaying, the inside was as fresh and well preserved as though it had been bought yesterday. Levi ran his hands over the silver of his razors, Hanji’s chattering barely registering.

“See! It don't have to be the sewers or the plague hospital. When they come for the little girl, I hid 'em. I thought, who knows? Maybe the poor silly blighter'll be back again someday and need 'em.” She chuckles and fiddles with her hair. “Cracked in the head, wasn't I? Times as bad as they are, I could have got five, maybe ten quid for 'em, any day. See? You can be a barber again.” Hanji smiles as Levi gently picks up a razor, flicking it open with ease. “My, them handles is chased silver, ain't they?” She says in admiration.

“Silver, yes…” He whispers, faintly remembering when he first held this razor…

~~~

_Erwin smiled that calm grin he would do when he knew he did something perfect, as always. “I figured, with you finally opening up shop, you should use something better than those wood ones. If you want people to appreciate your craft, you might as well look the part.” He says in his haughty way, knowing he’s right._

__

_Levi snorts and takes the polished wood box. “Erwin, we just moved in, how did you even get enough money for this?”_

__

_Erwin smiles again. “It doesn’t matter. You’ll earn double by the end of this week, I’m sure of it.” Levi opens the box and takes a sharp intake of breath. “Erwin… These are silver… How-”_

__

_“Like I said before, it doesn’t matter. What matters is we can pawn those old wood razors and start advertising your shop. By the time you find out how much I paid, it wouldn’t have mattered, considering we would be so rich you wouldn’t even care.” Levi rolled his eyes and tucked the razor back into its plush lining._

__

_“Have I ever told you I love you?” Levi asks, a small smile tugging his lips. Erwin chuckles and kisses him softly. “On occasion.”_

~~~

Levi remembered  what happened next: Armin started crying and they ran to the bassinet to fuss over their child. Well, he was actually Erwin’s, not Levi’s. Erwin had been previously married before he had met Levi, and his wife had died during childbirth. They found comfort in one another, and soon fell madly in love. Maybe it had been madness. But Levi knew Erwin was his life, and now…

“Oi, Mr. Ackerman, are you alright?” Levi jerked and looked up at cold, cruel reality: not Erwin’s comforting blue, but crazed brown behind dirty glass. “You were crying, dove.”

Levi lifts a hand to his face and is shocked to find tears dripping from his eyes. “I… I’m fine.” He unfolds his razor, and a slow, demonic smirk spreads across his pale lips. “Better than fine.” He stands abruptly, surprising Hanji as she falls back. Levi extends his hand and grins as he catches the glint of silver.

 

“AT LAST! My right arm is complete again!”

And soon... these razors will drip rubies.

 

_Precious rubies._

~~~

Meanwhile, down a few blocks is a more immaculate home, but still as dark and dreary as any other in London. Sitting at the window is a teenage boy with shoulder length hair and bright blue eyes. A leather bound journal sat in his lap as he sketched out the birds in the cages across the street, a portly man calling for people to buy them. Softly, he began to murmur to himself as he sketched.

“Green finch and linnet bird, nightingale, blackbird, how is it you sing? How can you jubilate, sitting in cages, never taking wing? Outside the sky waits, beckoning, beckoning, just beyond the bars.” He sighs and opens his window, letting the cool air stream into the stuffy room. The boy leans his head out and continues to talk.

“How can you remain, staring at the rain, maddened by the stars? How is it you sing anything? How is it you sing?” As he’s talking, he takes no note of the young sailor stopping and staring at the young man.

“Green finch and linnet bird, nightingale, blackbird, how is it you sing? Whence comes this melody constantly flowing? Is it rejoicing or merely hallowing? Are you discussing or fussing or simply dreaming? Are you crowing? Are you screaming?” He grips the window ledge tightly, his eyes staring in the distance.

“Ringdove and robinet, is it for wages, singing to be sold? Have you decided it's safer in cages, singing when you're told? My cage has many rooms, damask and dark. nothing there sings, not even my lark. Larks never will, you know, when they're captive. Teach me to be more adaptive... Green finch and linnet bird, nightingale, blackbird, teach me how to sing. If I cannot fly... Let me sing.” He sighs and lays his head on his hands, unaware of the sailor named Jean Kirstein staring at him.

Jean was short of breath as he stared at the beauty that was leaning out of the window. In all of his years on the seas, never had he been graced with a sight as beautiful as this man. “Oh… Look at me, sir, oh please, favor me with your glance…” He nears to the window, hiding behind a tree as he stares up lovingly.

The teen sighs and makes to close the window when he glances down and makes eye contact with Jean. They both freeze, almost not daring to breathe.

Suddenly, a claw like hand shoots out a pile of trash and grabs onto Jean’s arm, startling them both from their reverie. Jean struggles with the grip and finds that it’s the beggar from before.

“Alms…! Alms…! For a miserable man... Beg your pardon, it's you, sir!” The man says jovially, obviously pleased its the same sailor he accosted earlier. Jean gulped and glanced back at the window, noting that the window is shut and the beauty was nowhere to be seen. He sighed and handed the beggar a few coins.

“Thank yer... Thank yer kindly…” mumbled the beggar, counting out the silver coins. Jean hesitates, and turns to the beggar, who is mumbling under his breath. “One moment, sir. Perhaps you know whose house this is?” He asks, pointing at the stately abode.

The beggar blinks and turns to the house, hissing under his breath. “That! That's the great Judge Dok's house, that is.” He replies, spitting out the judge’s name. “And the young lad who resides there?” asks Jean, his face becoming dreamy as he remembers the boy.

“Ah, him! That's Armin, his pretty little ward. But don't you go trespassing there, young man. Not if you value your hide. Tamper there and it's a good whipping for you — or any other youth with mischief on his mind.” He cackles loudly and grabs Jean’s arm again. “Hey! Hoy! Sailor boy! Want it snugly harbored? Open me gate, but dock it straight, I see it lists to starboard.” He leers at him madly and snickers, amused by Jean’s horrified face. He hurriedly grabs more coins and throws them at the beggar. “Here and here and here! Take it and off with you! Off!”

The beggar man cackles and grabs the coins, screeching out Armin’s name madly as he scampers down the street. Jean sighs and hurries over to the bird seller, inspecting each small animal. “Which one sings the sweetest?” He asks the seller, who looked rather bored.

“All's the same, sir. Six pence and cheap at the price.” The seller replies. Jean points at one particularly loud bird, who was batting his blue wings vigorously. “He sings bravely. But why does he batter his wings so wildly against the bars?” The seller shrugs and says, “We blind 'em, sir. That's what we always does. Blind 'em and, not knowing night from day, they sing and sing without stopping, pretty creatures. Have pleasure of the bird, sir.” The seller takes his birds away save the blue one that Jean favored.

Jean turned to the house and was shocked to find the boy- Armin- standing at the stoop, an inquisitive look in his eyes. Jean slowly walked over, never breaking eye contact with him. Once he got so close they breathed each other’s air, he held out the cage, letting Armin’s pale hands cradle it. Jean wets his lips, and says softly, “I feel you, Armin. I was half convinced I'd waken, satisfied enough to dream you. Happily I was mistaken, Armin! I'll steal you, Armin, I'll steal you…”

So absorbed they are with each other that they do not notice the nearing footsteps until an angry voice barks out Armin’s name. The blonde gasped and backed away, leaving Jean with the cage. Jean is soon staring into the beetle black eyes of judge Dok, a skinny man with greasy black hair and a mustache. “If I see your face again on this or any other neighbor street, you'll rue the day you were born. Is that plain enough speaking for you?”

Jean backed up, feeling threatened. “But, sir,” he says, “I swear to you there was nothing in my heart but the most respectful sentiments of-”

He is cut off by the Judge’s gruff, “Dispose of him!” to his Beadle, a small woman with blonde hair and icy blue eyes. Jean was a bit skeptical of this short woman being able to get rid of him, so he was surprised when she grabbed him by the collar and tugged him down.

“You heard His Worship.” She says, glaring at him. Jean gulps and stutters, “But, friend, I have no fight with you!”

The Beadle released him and quickly lifted the hatch of the birdcage. Jean stared in horror as the woman picked up the bird, gently petted its head, and quick as a snake, snapped its neck in two. “Get the gist of it, friend?” She dropped the dead bird on Jean’s chest, which was rapidly falling up and down. “Next time, it'll be your neck.”

As they were talking, the Judge and Armin were off to the side, the man scolding his ward. “Armin, if I were to think you encouraged that young rogue...”

“Oh father,” Armin replies, his eyes to the ground and visibly trembling. “I hope always to be obedient to your commands…” Judge Dok smiled, showing yellowing and plaque ridden teeth. “Dear child. How sweet you look in those light breeches…” He ran his hand over Armin’s cheek, making the boy shudder with disgust. He runs into the house, the Judge and Beadle right at his heels.

**  
** Jean is left with the dead bird and its cage, staring up at the window that Armin occupied. He clenched his fists as his eyes hardened. “I’ll steal you, Armin! Do they think that walls can hide you?” He stands and brushes himself off. Jean rushes to his duffel bag and hefts it on his shoulder. “And one day…” He sends one last, longing look at the window. “I'll steal you... Till I'm with you then, I'm with you there! Sweetly buried in your yellow hair…” He smashes the birdcage with his foot, and runs towards Fleet Street.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I cut out 'My Friends'. I don't really like that song, and I wanted more context for Erwin and Levi. So, sorry for my liberties with the story, but I think it turned out good! Please leave comments, and kudos! Also, thank you for the people who have bookmarked and subscribed! You made my day! :D


	4. Pirelli’s Miracle Elixir/The Contest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An elixir, a contest, and a promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM SO SORRY THIS IS LATE!!!
> 
> It's been crazy, I have end of the year exams and a show (I was on TV for a play I was in; if you wanna see the clip, go on ny1.com and look under Education for teens reenacting Shakespeare in Chelsea. I was the modern Puck, and yes, I am very short.)
> 
> I think this is one of the best chapters though, so I hope you enjoy!

Levi and Hanji walked into the Town Square, where an elaborate caravan was stationed. A teenage boy with green eyes and a large hat on his head was banging on a tin drum, creating a crowd around the small stage.

“That's him? Over there?” Levi asks Hanji, his razor case held tightly in his hands. She nods, whispering back, “Yes, dear. He's always here Thursdays.”

They approached the caravan, pushing their way to the front. While Hanji fretted about the skinny boy, muttering how he should eat more, Levi read out the sign. “Haircutter, barber to His Royal Majesty the King of Naples.” He reads, a frown on his face.

Hanji nods. “Eyetalian. All the rage, he is.”

“Not for long…” Levi whispers darkly, making Hanji look at him worriedly.

“Oh Mr. A., you really think you can do it?” she asks him, wringing her apron between her hands. It became harder for them to whisper as the crowd became larger and rowdier.

Levi snorts. “By tomorrow they'll all be flocking after me like sheep to be shorn.” Hanji giggles and scans the crowd, but freezes. “Oh no! Look. The Beadle, Beadle Leonhart!” She nudges Levi, pointing at the short woman. Levi smirks. “So much the better.”

Hanji looks at him in disbelief. “But what if she recognizes you? Hadn't we better-” Levi cuts her off, growling, “I will do what I have set out to do, woman.”

Hanji’s face paled as she mumbled, “Oops. Sorry, dear, I'm sure…”

The boy on the stage set down his drum and stood up straight, calling out, “Ladies and gentlemen! May I have your attention, perlease?” The crowd began to hush as they leaned in to listen to the boy. As he spoke, it became apparent he was very simple minded, making Hanji mutter even more how she should take him in and give him a ‘proper meal’.

“Do you wake every morning in shame and despair to discover your pillow is covered with hair? Wot ought not to be there?” He points at one bald gentleman, making him huff in indignation as the crowd laughs. “Well, ladies and gentlemen, from now on you can waken at ease! You need never again have a worry or care, I will show you a miracle marvelous rare! Gentlemen, you are about to see something wot rose from the dead!” A woman screamed in terror as she heard that last bit, startling the boy and making his knees buckle. Meekly, he finishes his little speech with, “O-On the top of me head…”

He cleared his throat and began to recite, “Scarcely a month ago, gentlemen, I was struck with a 'orrible dermatologic disease. Though the finest physicians in London were called, I awakened one morning amazed and appalled to discover with dread that my head was as bald as a novice's knees.” He took a deep breath, and continued, “I was dying of shame, till a gentleman came, an illustrious barber, Reiner by name! He give me a liquid as precious as gold,” He lifted a bottle full of a dark liquid. “I rubbed it in daily like wot I was told, and behold!”

He doffs his cap dramatically, revealing mountains of chocolate colored hair that cascades down his shoulders. “Only thirty days old!”

The crowd gasps in amazement and begins to applaud. The boy grabs more bottles and declares, “'Twas Reiner's Miracle Elixir, that's wot did the trick, sir, true, sir, true. Was it quick, sir? Did it in a tick, sir, just like an elixir ought to do!” The boy leaped off the stage, handing out the elixir. He holds out a bottle to one man with a rather bald head. “How about a bottle, mister? Only costs a penny, guaranteed!”

“Penny buys a bottle?” The man asks, inspecting the bottle skeptically. “I don’t know…” The boy grabs the bottle and pulls the cork, dribbling a few drops on the skull. “Does Reiner's stimulate the growth, sir? You can have my oath, sir, 'tis unique.” He takes the man's hand and gently applies it to the wet spot “Rub a minute. Stimulatin', i'n' it? Soon you'll have to thin it once a week!” The man looked impressed and took the bottle back.

“Penny buys a bottle, guaranteed!” The boy holds out his hand and the man places the coin in his hand. By this time, the bottles had begun distributing fully around the crowd and Levi held one in his hands. He wrinkled his nose and pulled open the cork, taking a quick sniff. He gagged and closed the bottle quickly. Hanji turned to him quizzically. Levi quirked an eyebrow and held up the bottle, mouthing something. Her eyes lit up and she smirked.

Levi cleared his throat and said loudly, “Pardon me, ma'am, what's that awful stench?” Hanji wrinkled her nose and said, “Are we standing in an open trench?” Some people turned to them, confusion evident on their faces. They smelled their own bottles and reacted similarly to Levi, gagging and covering their noses.

Levi lifted the bottle again and exclaimed loudly, “Smells like piss!” Hanji leaned in and shouted, “Smells like- phew!” Levi snorted and covered the bottle, proclaiming the ‘elixir’ is piss with ink.

The crowd turned on the boy and began to scream profanity, demanding they get their money back and where Reiner is. The boy look terrified and meekly tried to convince them that the elixir worked, curling in on himself and wringing the bottom of his threadbare shirt in his hands. Soon, a flamboyant man with short blonde hair and full of muscle threw open the curtain to the caravan. “Talk to him!” The boy squeaked, rushing back into the caravan. Reiner smiles winningly and speaks in a heavy Italian accent.

“I am Reiner Braun, da king of da barbers, da barber of kings, e buon giorno, good day! I blow you a kiss!” He does so. “And I, da so-famous Reiner, I wish-a to know-a who has-a da nerve-a to say my elixir is piss! Who says this?” His smile drops as he glares at the crowd.

No one speaks, then Levi’s quiet, deep voice verberates through the crowd. “I do.” He steps through the crowd and holds up the bottle, “I am Mr. Levi Ackerman and I have opened a bottle of Pirelli's Elixir, and I say to you it is nothing but an arrant fraud, concocted from piss and ink.”

Hanji pipes in, “He's right. Phew! Better to throw your money down the sewer!” Levi cuts her off, his eyes never leaving Reiner. “And furthermore... I have serviced no kings, yet I wager that I can shave a cheek with ten times more dexterity than any street mountebank!” He holds out his razor case, “You see these razors?”

“The finest in England, they is!” Hanji interrupts again. “I lay them against five pounds you are no match for me.” Reiner doesn’t reply, and Levi says again, louder, “You hear me, sir? Either accept my challenge or reveal yourself as a sham.” Reiner suddenly smiles and claps his hands together. “Zees are indeed fine razors. Instruments like zees once seen cannot be soon forgotten. You wager zees against five pounds, sir?” Levi nods.

Reiner throws his hands up, grinning wolfishly. “You hear zis foolish man? Watch and see how he will regret his folly. Five pounds it is!”

Levi glanced at the audience with dark eyes. “Would Beadle Leonhart be the judge?” he asks softly. The woman nods sagely and walks up to the stage, her face as impassive as Reiner’s. “Glad, as always, to oblige my friends and neighbors.” She replies, putting out a watch from her side. Two men with rather full beards sat in their respective stools. With a flourish, they had a towel wrapped under their necks.

“Ready?” Annie asks, her pale eyes glinting as she stared at the two competitors. “The fastest, smoothest shave is the winner.” She blows a whistle handed to her by the skinny boy, and Reiner strops his razor quickly, slicing the boy’s fingers, causing beads of blood to drip on the stage floor. The boy winced, but didn’t cry out. Reiner began to whip up the lather furiously, sending feverish, quick glances towards the calm Levi, who was stropping his largest razor with ease. Reiner, crazed, begins to taunt the other barber.

“Now, signorini, signori, we mix-a da lather but first-a you gather around, signorini, signori, you looking a man who have had-a da glory to shave-a da Pope! Mr. Ackerman-so-smart, oh, I beg-a you pardon-'ll call me a lie, was-a only a cardinal, nope! It was-a da Pope!” He glances over to Levi again and calmed down a bit, seeing that the man was still sharpening his razor. Reiner grinned and lathered the man’s face and begins to shave.

“To shave-a da face, to trim-a da hair, require da grace  and not-a da brute, for if-a you slip, you nick da skin, you clip-a da chin, you rip-a da lip a bit and dat's-a da trut'!” Levi was still sharpening his razor, putting Reiner on edge. Dramatically, Levi plucked a singular hair from his head and dropped it on the blade, slicing it through lengthwise. Reiner gulped and continued to shave, placated by the fact that Levi still had not put the lather on his man’s face.\

“To trim-a da beard, to make-a da bristle, clean like a whistle, dis is from early infancy da talent give to me by God! It take-a da skill! It take-a da brains! It take-a da will, to take-a da pains, it take-a da pace, it take-a da grace!” In the span of Reiner speaking, Levi had lathered the man quickly, and had shaved him in the time it took Reiner to shave half on the other man’s face. Annie blew her whistle quickly and proclaimed, “The winner is Ackerman!”

The crowd cheered, Hanji definitely being the loudest. Hanji clambered onto the stage and touched the freshly shaven man’s face, crowing, “Smooth as a baby’s arse!”

Reiner, with a false grin on his face, walks up to Levi. “Sir, I bow to a skill far defter than my own-” He is cut off by Levi quietly replying, “The five pounds.” Reiner’s eye twitched, but his smile stayed on, tugging a purse from his pocket. “Here, sir. And may the good Lord smile on you…” His smile turns darker and his yellowish eyes harden to a leery gold. “Until we meet again. Come, boy.” He grabs the teen boy by his arm and tugs him into the caravan, calling out farewells in Italian.

Hanji grinned at Levi and hugged him tightly. “Who'd have thought it, dear! You pulled it off!” Levi shrugged and tugged away from the embrace, cleaning his razor of lather and hair. A man with an immaculate beard approached them, and asked, “Oh, sir, Mr. Ackerman, sir, do you have an establishment of your own?”

Levi was about to reply but was interrupted by Hanji, her voice proud. “He certainly does. Levi Ackerman's Tonsorial Parlor, above my meat pie-shop on Fleet Street.” The man nods and turns to the street. “Mr. Ackerman… Strange, sir, but it seems your face is known to me.” says a soft voice. The duo turns to see the impassive Beadle, her stopwatch still in her hands. Hanji forced out a laugh. “Him? That's a laugh, him being my uncle's cousin and arrived from Birmingham yesterday!” Levi butted in, “But already, sir, I have heard Beadle Leonhart spoken of with great respect.”

The woman quirks an eyebrow, and a hint of a smirk is on her lips. “Well, sir, I try my best for my neighbors.” She turns to Hanji. “Fleet Street? Over your pie-shop, ma'am?” Hanji nodded eagerly, and Annie chuckled, “Then, Mr. Ackerman, you will surely see me there before the week is out. I have been in need for a trimming for quite a while.”

**  
**Levi bowed slightly, and replied, ”You will be welcome, Beadle Leonhart, and I guarantee to give you, without a penny's charge, the closest cut you will ever know.” A wicked smirk is covered by the sweep of his dark bangs, and the Beadle nods and walks away. Hanji smiles and taps Levi’s shoulder, taking his arm and making their way back towards the pie shop to continue their nefarious plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you didn't catch it, the teen is Eren. I was debating if either Eren or Marco be Tobias, but I decided Eren in the end. Marco's a bit too cheerful, I think.


	5. Johanna (Mea Culpa)/Wait/Pirelli’s Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A scourge, a plead, and a death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING! Minor character death and creepy as fuck Nile. Seriously. After five chapters we finally get to he gore and death! Yay?
> 
> Also, fans of the movie might be confused with the scene between Nile and Armin. In the musical, this creepy scene and song were cut because of length, but its one of my favorite numbers for the Judge cause it showcases his lust and creepiness for Johanna. I wanted it in my fic, so enjoy! I hope I did it justice.

In the Judge Dok’s home, Armin was studiously reading a novel. If anyone noticed the longing glances he shot towards his now barred window, no one dared mention it lest the Judge lose his mind. Armin never knew that the Judge had a small room next to his, with a small hole that Nile could look through to observe his pretty little ward. He did so now, arrived from the court still in his judicial clothes. He held a Bible in his hand, stroking the cover as he whispered prayers under his breath.

_“Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa, mea maxima maxima culpa!”_ He growls and claws at his face, pleading, “God! Deliver me! Release me! Forgive me! Restrain me! Pervade me!” Nile groaned and, against his better judgement, glanced through the hole again. Armin had closed his book now and was sewing a button onto one of his vests. His long sweep of golden hair brushed his chin and he absentmindedly tucked it behind his ear, exposing his jaw and neck.

“Armin, Armin… So suddenly grown.” Nile murmurs, his Bible clutched in his hands. “The light behind your window- It penetrates your night gown... Armin, the sun, I see the sun through your-” Ashamed, he pulls away, scratching furiously at his face and chest. “No! God! Deliver me!” He whimpers and grabs the scourge he keeps in the room, whipping himself into submission. Biting back Armin’s gold hair, his blue eyes, his plump lips, his-! He almost screams, but bites his fist to stifle it, knowing Armin or Annie would come running to check on him.

“Armin, I cannot keep you longer…” He whispers, his hands shaking. Blood began to drip from his hand, bitten so harshly. “The world is at your window, you want to fly away. You stir me, Armin, so suddenly grown, I cannot watch you one more day-! _God!"_  Nile sobs as he whips himself again, blood staining his robes and the liquid staining the Bible he had been clutching.

Nile’s eyes were wide with fear and he began to mumble madly, “Armin… Armin… I'll keep you here forever. I'll wed you on the morrow. Oh, Amrin, the world will never touch you! As years pass, you'll tend me in my solitude, no longer as a son, as a spouse…” He pulls off his stained clothes and puts on fresh ones he keeps in the room. His words began to blur together, his terror of losing his ward visible. “Armin, I'll hold you here forever then, you'll keep away from windows and you'll deliver me, Armin! From this hot, red devil with your soft...white... cool... _virgin_ palms…” Nile grinned and burst out of his room, unlocking Armin’s bedroom door and bustling in with urgency. In his haste, he leaves the key in the lock.

Armin is jolted from the bang of the door and looks up, alarmed. “Father!” He yelps, setting down his vest and needle. Nile stands, tall and imposing, and asks, “Armin, I trust you've not been near the window again.”

Armin’s eyes fall on the key, and murmurs, “Hardly, dear father, when it has been shuttered and barred these last three days.”

“How right I was to insist on such a precaution, for once again he has come, that conscienceless young sailor. Ten times has he been driven from my door and yet…” He gazes at Armin, his eyes dark with something Armin can’t describe. “How sweet you look in those light breeches.”

Armin gulped and stuttered out, “T-Tis nothing but breeches from last spring, father.” Nile nodded, his eyes still on the young man. “But fairer on your young form than wings on an angel... oh, if I were to think…”

“Think what, father?” Asks Armin, slowly moving towards the door. Nile frowned, and grit his teeth. “If I were to think you encouraged this young rogue…”

Deftly, Armin pulled the key out of the lock and hides it in his pant’s pocket. “I? A lad trained from the cradle to find in modesty and obedience the greatest of all virtues? Dear father, when have you ceased to warn me of the wickedness of men?” Armin quirked an eyebrow, but the Judge was adamant. “Venal young men of the street with only one thought in their heads. But there are men of different and far higher breed. I have one in mind for you.” Armin’s smile faltered, but he pushed down the sick feeling in his stomach and replied, “You have?”

“A gentle man, who would shield you from all earthly cares and guide your faltering steps to the sober warmth of manhood, a husband, a protector, and yet an ardent lover too. It is a man who through all the years has surely earned your affection.” Nile dropped to his knees and looked up at Armin imploringly. Armin balked and held a hand to his mouth, almost wanting to retch. “You?!” He asks, his dreams of flying away seemingly flying away like the birds he stared at day after day.

~~~

Levi is pacing in his old apartment, rolling his largest razor in his hands. A disgruntled look on his face made Hanji stay farther than she had before, but she still chattered as though he was listening. “It's not much of a chair, but it'll do till you get your fancy new one. It was me poor Moblit's chair, it was. Sat in it all day long he did, after his leg give out from the dropsy." She hums and grabs a rag, scrubbing at a smudged and chipped mirror set on the wall. "Kinda bare, isn't it? I never did like a bare room. Oh, well, we'll find some nice little knickknacks.” She smiles at Levi, who is now looking out of the window. She sighs and bustles over to him, lifting her skirts to make the walk easier.

“Why doesn't the beadle come? "Before the week is out," that's what he said.” Levi bites out, the first words she had heard him say all day. Hanji pouts and replies, “And who says the week's out yet? It's only Tuesday. Easy now, hush, love, hush. Don't distress yourself, what's your rush? Keep your thoughts nice and lush. Wait.” She smiles and rests her hands on his shoulders, which he shrugs off angrily.

“I've been thinking, flowers, maybe daisies, to brighten up the room. Don't you think some flowers, pretty daisies, might relieve the gloom? Ah, wait, love, wait.” She smiles at him reassuringly, but Levi snarls. “And the Judge? When will I get him?”

Hanji huffs and crosses her arms. “Can't you think of nothing else? Always broodin' away on yer wrongs what happened heaven knows how many years ago! Slow, love, slow. Time's so fast. Now goes quickly- see, now it's past! Soon will come. Soon will last. Wait!” She hums and taps her chin, staring at Levi. He was sitting in the ratty chair Hanji brought up for him. “Gillyflowers, maybe, 'stead of daisies… I don't know, though, what do you think?”

Absentmindedly, Levi mutters a ‘yes.’ Hanji grins and gently takes the razor from him, mussing his black hair. “Gillyflowers, I'd say. Nothing like a nice bowl of gillies.” Levi grunted.

They freeze suddenly at the sound of the doorbell ringing. Levi tenses up and Hanji wordlessly hands him back his razor. The door bursts open and Levi flicks open the blade, ready to strike when he realizes who it was. “Jean.” Levi states, his face blank.

“Mr. Ackerman! I've paced Fleet Street a dozen times with no success, but now the sign! In business already!” Jean grins and claps a hand on Levi’s shoulder. Levi nods silently.

“I congratulate you!” He turns to Hanji, who is gripping her skirts tightly. “And… er…” Hanji forces a smile and says, “Hanji, dear.”

Jean bows accordingly. “A pleasure, ma'am.” He turns to Levi, his face excited. “Oh, Mr. Ackerman, I have so much to tell you. I have found the fairest and most loving youth that any man could dream of! And yet there are problems. He has a guardian so tyrannical that he is kept shut up from human eye. But now this morning this key fell from his shuttered window.” He holds up the ornate key that Armin had snatched from the Judge. “The surest sign that Armin loves me and…” Hanji interrupts. “Armin?”

The young sailor nods happily, not noticing the tense atmosphere held by the two adults. “That's his name, ma'am, and Dok that of the abominable parent. A Judge, it seems. But, as I said, a monstrous tyrant. Oh Mr. Ackerman, once the Judge has gone to court, I'll slip into the house and plead with him to fly with me tonight. Yet when I have him, where can I bring him till I have hired a coach to speed us home to Plymouth? Oh Mr. Ackerman, if I could lodge him here just for an hour or two!” Jean pleads, clasping his hands together. Levi says nothing, his face blank. Hanji clears her throat and says, “Bring him, dear.” A smile on her lips, but the strain at the corners shows how false it is.

Jean takes no notice of this. “Oh thank you, thank you, ma'am.” He turns to Levi, still stoic. “I have your consent, Mr. Ackerman?”

Levi stares back at him, and Jean is reminded of when they had come off the boat together, staring at each other until Levi would speak. “The boy may come.” He said, the whisper so soft, yet too deep to ignore. Jean claps him on the shoulder again. “I shall be grateful for this to the grave. Now I must hurry, for surely the Judge is off to the Old Bailey. My thanks! A thousand blessings on you both!” He hurries out and down the stairs, his feet pounding the worn wooden steps.

Hanji and Levi stood in silence for a few minutes, until the woman broke the silence. “Armin! Who'd have thought it! It's like Fate, isn't it? You'll have him back before the day is out.” Levi glared at her and said, “For a few hours? Before he carries him off to the other end of England?”

“Oh, that sailor! Let him bring him here and then, since you're so hot for a little…” She makes a throat-cutting gesture, “...that's the throat to slit, dear. Oh Mr. A, we'll make a lovely home for him. You and me. The poor thing! All those years and not a scrap of motherly affection! I'll soon change that, I will, for if ever there was a maternal heart, it's mine.” She taps her chest and smiles. The door is knocked upon, and they tense up again. “Oh, what is it with this coming and going?” She grumbles, opening the door. She freezes as she sees Reiner and his servant boy in the foyer.

“Good morning, Mr. Ackerman and to you, bellissima signorina.” Reiner winks and Hanji huffs. “Well, 'ow do you do, signer, I'm sure.” She says, her eyes on the teenage boy. “A little business with Mr. Ackerman, signora. Perhaps if you will give the permission?”

“Oh yes, indeed, I'll just pop on down to my pies.” She goes to leave, and smiles at the young man. “Oh lawks, look at it now! Don't look like it's had a kind word since half past never!” She pinches his cheek, making him blush. “What would you say, son, to a nice juicy meat pie, eh? Your teeth is strong, I hope?” The boy nods, smiling. “What’s your name, son?”

“Eren, ma’am…” He mumbled. Off the stage, its more obvious his vocabulary is severely lacking. “Then come with me, love. At lease ye have a good head of hair on you.” Eren’s eyebrow crinkles, and he says, “Well, ma’am, to be honest, ma’am, it gets awful ‘ot.” He pulls off his long hair, revealing short, messy brown hair. Hanji stares at him perplexed, but laughs and leads him down the stairs.

The door shuts, and it's only Reiner and Levi. “Mr. Ackerman.”

“Signor Reiner.”

“Ow, call me Reiner, jiss Reiner the name when it's not perfessional.” His voice is  suddenly full of a thick Irish brogue, making Levi quirk a thin eyebrow. Reiner looks around the shop, “Not much, but I imagine you'll pretty it up a bit. I'd like me five quid back, ifn ya don't mind.” Reiner grins menancingly.

“Why?” asks Levi, looking bored. Reiner falters, but plows on. “It'll hold me over till your customers start coming. Then it's half your profits you'll hand over to me every week on a Friday, share and share alike. All right... Mr. Rivaille Smith?” Levi continued to look at him with a blank face.

“Why do you call me that?” He asks, looking at his nails and opening one of his razors. Deftly, he flicked off the dirt from under his nails.

Reiner laughs harshly, and  began to monologue. “You don't remember me. Why should you? I was just a down and out Irish lad you hired for a couple of weeks, sweeping up hair and such like but I remember these…” He pointed at Levi’s razor, who was still cleaning his nails. “And you. Rivaille Smith, later transported to Botany Bay for life. So, Mr. Ackerman… is it a deal or do I run down the street for me pal Beadle Leonhart?” Reiner smirks and goes back into his Italian accent. “You t'ink-a you smart, you foolish-a boy. Tomorrow you start in my-a employ! You unner-a-stan'? You like-a my pla-”

Reiner never spoke again.

~~~

Levi was cleaning his razor when Eren frantically ran up the stairs. “Signer! It's late! The tailor, sir. Signor, I did like you said. I reminded you… the tailor… Ow, he ain't here.” Eren scratched his head, confused. Levi replied calmly, “Signor Reiner has been called away.”

“Where did he go, sir?” asks Eren, wringing his shirt again. Levi shrugged. “He didn't say. You'd better run after him.”

“Oh no, sir. Knowing him, sir, without orders to the contrary, I'd best wait for him here.” Eren plops down on a chest next to the door, not noticing the beefy hand poking out of the side.

“So, Hanji gave you a pie, did she, my lad?” Levi asks, setting down his rag and laying the razor down on his table. Eren smiled and nodded. “Oh yes, sir. She's a real kind lady. One whole pie!” He rubs his stomach happily. If Levi wasn’t so terrified of the boy discovering his old master’s corpse, he might have laughed at the fact Hanji finally found someone that liked her pies.

“A whole pie, eh? That's a treat. And yet, if I know a growing boy, there's still room for more, eh?” Levi remarked, standing up from his chair. Eren nodded sadly, patting his stomach. “I'd say, sir. An aching void.”

Levi hefts Eren up by the armpits, awkwardly, as the teen was a few inches taller than himself. “Then why don't you run downstairs and wait for your master there? There'll be another pie in it for you, I'm sure.” As an afterthought as he pushes Eren towards the door. “And tell Hanji to give you a nice big tot of gin.” He awkwardly pats the boy’s head.

“Oo, sir! Gin, sir! Thanking you, sir, thanking you kindly. Gin! You're a Christian indeed, sir!” Eren smiled happily and hugged the barber, bounding down the stairs.

Levi stared down at the disappearing teen, and closes and bolts the shop door. He turns to the chest and frowns at the twitching hand. Slowly, he crosses to his table and picks up the razor again, making his way to the chest. He flips open the latch and opens the lid, looking down at the bloody shape of Reiner Braun. Levi tsks. “Moving like that… How rude.” Reiner’s breath rattles in his throat and he feebly reaches his arm up to grab at Levi. The barber sidesteps the weak grab and deftly stabs his razor into the man’s bloody, open throat. Reiner makes no sound.

 **  
** “Farewell, _Signor_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, hopefully you didn't like Reiner that much anyway. If you're confused, Reiner was an apprentice to Levi when he was still Rivaille and living with Erwin. :)


	6. Kiss Me/Pretty Women/Epiphany

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A kiss, a shave, and a secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...  
>  I can explain.
> 
> I'm SO SO SORRY THIS CHAPTER IS SO LATE! I was in Puerto Rico this whole summer, and none of my relatives had wifi. Coupled with writers block, led to this chapter. I've worked really hard this chapter, and this is the result! I hope this one will be good enough of an apology!

Armin wrung his hands, pacing back and forth. Jean stared at him with rapture, in awe that the beautiful boy he had fallen so quickly for was in front of him. Although, when he snuck into the Judge’s home, he had hoped there would be less panicking and more.. amorous activities.

“He means to marry me Monday, what shall I do? I'd rather die.” Armin stuttered, his knuckles growing white as he gripped his night shirt in his hands. Jean tried to cut in, but Armin blundered on. “I'll swallow poison on Sunday, that's what I'll do, I'll get some lye.” Jean gulped and attempted to interrupt again.

“Oh, dear, was that a noise? I think I heard a noise. It couldn't be, he's in court, he's in court today, still that was a noise, wasn't that a noise? You must have heard that-” Jean growled and gripped Armin’s shoulders, his startled blue eyes boring into his. “Kiss me.” he murmured, running a thumb over the soft pink lips.

Armin flushed. “Oh, sir…” And as if a spell broke, he immediately went back to worrying, to Jean’s exasperation.

“If he should marry me Monday, what shall I do? I'll die of grief. 'Tis Friday, virtually Sunday, what can we do with time so brief?” The sailor groaned and exclaimed, “Armin! I have a plan! We will fly tonight from this wretched place.” He pulled Armin close to him, the young man gripping him tightly. “I'll steal you ... It's me you'll marry on Monday, that's what you'll do!”

Armin looked up cheekily and smiled. “And gladly, sir. I knew I'd be with you one day, even not knowing who you were. I feared you'd never come, that you'd been called away, that you'd been killed, had the plague, were in debtor's jail, trampled by a horse, gone to sea again, arrested by the…” Armin bit his lip and tugged Jean down to his height. “Kiss me!”

Jean gaped at him and grinned. “Of course!” He swooped down and pressed their lips together, wrapped up in an embrace that held so much hope for the future.

~~~

Hanji smiled and patted Eren’s head as he finished his fifth pie. “Maybe you should run along, dear…” Eren shook his head and smiled, wiping at his mouth to rid away the excess grease. “Oh no, ma'am, I daren't budge till he calls for me.” Hanji huffed and rubbed her hands on her old apron. “I'll pop up and see what Mr. Ackerman says, alright, dearie?” After he nodded, she went up the steps, humming.

“Ah me, my poor knees is not what they was, dear.” She groans as she enters the barbershop, plopping on top of the chest. Levi didn’t take his eyes off his razor, slowly polishing it. “How long before the Eyetalian gets back?” She asks, crossing her ankles daintily.

“Ah…” he smirks lightly. “He won’t be back.” Hanji paled and gripped her skirts. “Oh, Mr. A, you didn’t!” He nods towards the chest, and she hopped up. For a moment, she stares at the chest, and slowly, gingerly, lifts the lid to see the bloody and rotting corpse of Reiner Braun.

“Oh… Oh my…” She slammed the lid down and spun to him, her eyes glinting angrily behind her smudged glasses. “You're crazy mad! Killing a man wot done you no harm? And the boy downstairs?” Levi slammed the razor down and glared at her. “He recognized me from the old days. He tried to blackmail me, half my earnings forever.”

Hanji’s demeanor changed almost immediately. “Oh well, that's a different matter! What a relief, dear! For a moment I thought you'd lost your marbles.” She grins and turns to peer down again into the chest. “Ooh! All that blood! Enough to make you come all over gooseflesh, ain't it. Poor bugger. Oh, well!” She starts to close the lid, sees something, and bends to pick it up. Hanji lets out a low whistle as she pulls out a small coin purse, quickly counting out the money.

“Three quid! Well, waste not, want not, as I always say.” She takes out the money and puts it down her bosom. Hanji is about to throw the purse away when something about it attracts her. She slips it too down her dress. She shuts the chest lid and, quite composed again, sits down on it. “Now, dear, we got to use the old noggin.”

Levi raised an eyebrow as she pondered. “Well, first there’s the lad.” Levi rolled his eyes. “Send him up here.” He reached for his razor and flicked open the blade again. Hanji gasped and glared at him. “Him, too! Now surely one's enough for today, dear. Shouldn't indulge yourself, you know. Now let me see, he's half seas over already with the gin…” She was interrupted by the clanging of the doorbell downstairs. Like lightning, Levi rushed to the balcony and peered down. He turned to Hanji with a manic grin. “Oh, providence is kind!”

“Who is it?” She asks, rushing over to him. “Judge Dok.” He murmurs, moving the razor between his hands slowly. “Him, him? The Judge? It can't be! It-” She flusters, smoothing her skirt and fussing with her hair.

“Leave me, quickly!” He pushes her towards the door, his eyes full of glee. “What are you going to do?” She demands, despite being pushed. She balks when he growls, glaring at her with venom. “Leave me, I said!”

She gulped and nodded. “Don't worry, dear. I'm out!” She scuttles out of the tonsorial parlor and starts down the stairs as the Judge ascends. They meet halfway and she gives him a deep curtsy. “Excuse me, your Lordship.” Rushing back to the young boy in her pie shop, leaving the Judge to his fate.

“Mr. Ackerman?” Judge Dok peers in and raises an eyebrow at the bare establishment with the rather petite man standing in the center.

“At your service, sir. An honor to receive your patronage, sir.” Levi bows cordially to him, smiling sweetly. “These premises are hardly prepossessing and yet the Beadle tells me you are the most accomplished of all the barbers in the city.” The Judge states, hanging up his coat by the door. Levi straightened up and led the Judge to his chair.

“That is gracious of him, sir. And you must please excuse the modesty of my establishment. It's only a few days ago that I set up quarters here and some necessaries are yet to come.Sit, sir, if you please, sir. Sit.” Levi pulled a white cloth and tied it primly around the man’s throat, letting his fingers linger on a prominent vein on the side. “And what may I do for you, sir? A stylish trimming of the hair? A soothing skin massage?”

“You see, sir, a man infatuate with love, his ardent and eager slave. So fetch the pomade and pumice stone and lend me a more seductive tone, a sprinkling perhaps of French cologne, but first, sir, I think… a shave.” the Judge finishes, sitting up and jutting out his chin.

Levi smiles and started to prepare the lather. “ _The closest I ever gave…_ ” He coos, beginning to apply the foam. Soon, overcome with joy, he begins to whistle.

“You are in a merry mood today, Mr. Ackerman.” remarks Judge Dok, humming along to the gay tune. “'Tis your delight, sir, catching fire from one man to the next.” Levi says, laying the lather down and picking up the razor, beginning to sharpen it.

“'Tis true, sir, love can still inspire the blood to pound, the heart leap higher.” Dok laughs. “What more, what more can man require than love sir?”

Levi shrugs. “More than love, sir.” He winks cheekily and admires his blade. “Women are lovely, but I admired the male form more myself.”

“Ah, yes, men.” The Judge grins. Levi motions for him to tilt his chin up and the Judge does so. Levi takes in the visage of his victim in, breathing slowly. He looks down at his weapon and whispers.

“Now then, my friend. Now to your purpose. Patience, enjoy it. Revenge can't be taken in haste-” As he is about to stab, the Judge interrupts, irritation leaking into his tone. “Make haste, and if we wed, you'll be commended, sir.”

Levi forces a grin and resting his hands on the man’s shoulders. “My lord… And who, may it be said, Is your intended, sir?” He brings the razor close, lightly touching his neck.

“My ward.” Levi freezes, his hackles raised. “As pretty as a rosebud.”

Unthinkingly, Levi whispers. “As pretty as his father?” The Judge’s eyebrows wrinkle together as he asks, “What? What was that?” Levi blunders and grunts out a ‘nothing’ as he presses the razor against his neck…

...And shaves a clean line up the neck. “Pretty men, aren’t they? Sipping coffee, dancing… Pretty men truly are a wonder. Sitting in the window or standing on the stair, something in them cheers the air.” He continues to shave, relishing in the feel of having his prey in his hands.

Nile chuckles and agrees. “Pretty men! Blowing out their candles or combing out their hair... Then they leave, even when they leave you and vanish, they somehow can still remain there with you.” Levi grins and slowly rises the razor high, about to stab the sharp blade into his neck when Jean burst into the room, blurting out, “He says he'll marry me Sunday, everything's set, we leave tonight-”

“You!” Nile exclaims, standing up and wiping the lather from his face angrily. Jean immediately balked and paled. “Judge Dok!” he squeaks.

“There is indeed a Higher Power to warn me thus in time.” Dok growled and grabbed Jean’s arm before he could bolt out of the door. “Armin elope with you? Deceiving slut- I'll lock him up in some obscure retreat where neither you nor any other vile, corrupting youth shall ever lay eyes on him again!” He screeches, spittle flying into the youth’s face. Jean weakly begs, “But sir, I beg of you-”

“And as for you, barber, it is all too clear what company you keep. Service them well and hold their custom- for you'll have none of mine!” Nile throws the white sheet to the floor and grabbed his coat, storming out of the shop, and out of Levi’s grasp. Jean shakily turns to Levi, pleading, “Mr. Ackerman, I-I-”

“Out.” Levi’s stare could murder Jean twice over. “Out I say!” He screams, throwing the bowl that held lather at him. Jean yelps and scurried out, but was replaced by Hanji, her face red and puffing. “All this running and shouting. What is it now, dear?”

“I had him…” He whispers, his head in his hands. “And then-” “The sailor busted in. I saw them both running down the street and I said to myself: "The fat's in the fire, for sure!”” She chuckles, but her humor was lost on Levi.

He screamed and threw his razor down. “I had him! His throat was bare Beneath my hand-!” Hanji gulped and tried to placate him. “There, there, dear. Don't fret-”

Levi groans and pushes her away. “No, I had him! His throat was there, and he'll never come again!” Hanji attempted to calm him again but he brushed her away, his eyes wide and blank. “Why did I wait? You told me to wait! Now he'll never come again! There's a hole in the world like a great black pit and it's filled with people who are filled with shit and the vermin of the world inhabit it.” He breathes in, closing his eyes. Hanji stared at him with fear, and when he opened them, she shivered. His eyes were filled with such pure rage that she had only seen once before: In the eyes of a rabid dog before it was put down.

Levi laughs, a loud cackle that chilled her bones. “But not for long! They all deserve to die! Tell you why, Mrs. Zoe, tell you why: Because in all of the whole human race, Mrs. Zoe, there are two kinds of men and only two. There's the one staying put In his proper place and the one with his foot In the other one's face.” He giggles and looks at her, she, frozen in place. “Look at me, Mrs. Zoe, Look at you! No, we all deserve to die! Tell you why, Mrs. Zoe, tell you why: Because the lives of the wicked should be made brief. For the rest of us, death will be a relief. We all deserve to die!” Somewhere along his monologue he began to cry.

He crumples to the floor, but continued to speak. “And I'll never see Armin, no, I'll never hug my son to me…” He grit his teeth and jumped up, tears smeared around his face. “Finished!” He turns on the window and pushed it open, screaming at the empty street. “All right! You, sir, how about a shave?” He laughs as he points to an imaginary pedestrian. “Come and visit your good friend Levi! You, sir, too, sir- Welcome to the grave! I will have vengeance, I will have salvation! Who, sir? You, sir? No one's in the chair- Come on, come on, Levi's waiting! I want you bleeders! You, sir, anybody! Gentlemen, now don't be shy! Not one man, no, nor ten men, nor a hundred can assuage me — I will have you!” His screeching laugh penetrated the cold London air. Hanji shakily tried to walk to him, but was stopped when he turned to her with bloodshot eyes.

His next words were whispered. “And I will get him back even as he gloats. In the meantime I'll practice on less honorable throats. And my Erwin lies in ashes and I'll never see my son again, but the work waits, I'm alive at last and…” He grinned again, and let out a high pitched giggle.

**  
** _“I'm full of joy!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...
> 
> Levi is batshit insane! :) Next chapter will be up as soon as I write it. Maybe I should start prewriting...? What do you think?


	7. Little Priest/God, That’s Good!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A plan, a pie, and a choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! IM SO SORRY THIS CHAPTER IS 5 MONTHS LATE. I really lost motivation for this fic, but I'm not abandoning it. I'm just really REALLY busy! But the comments I keep on getting are so sweet, so thank you!

Hanji stared at the madman before her for a bit, her mouth agape. She snapped her jaw shut and cleared her throat. “That's all very well, but all that matters now is him!” She points to the chest. Levi still sits motionless. She goes to him, peering at him. “Listen! Do you hear me? Can you hear me? Get control of yourself.” She slaps his cheek, pouting. After a long pause, Levi, still in a half-dream, gets to his feet.

 

“What are we going to do about him? And there's the lad downstairs. We'd better go and have a look and be sure he's still there. When I left him he was sound asleep in the parlor.” She starts downstairs. ”Come on!” Levi follows, his razor still in hand. Hanji disappears into the back parlor and reemerges moments later. “No problem there. He's still sleeping. He's simple as a baby lamb. Later I can fob him off with some story easy. But him!” She indicates to the tonsorial parlor above. “What are we going to do with him?”

 

Levi glances back up the stairs, thinking. “Later on, when it's dark, we'll take him to some secret place and bury him.” He doesn't sound sure.

 

Hanji bites her lip and thrums her fingers on the gritty table. “Well, of course, we could do that. I don't suppose there's any relatives going to come poking around looking for him.” Suddenly, her eyes light up, her mouth open in a soft 'o'.

 

“You know me. Sometimes ideas just pop into me head and I keep thinking…” She grins at Levi. “Seems a downright shame.”

 

Levi raises an eyebrow. “ _Shame?_ ”

 

“Seems an awful waste… Such a nice plump frame wot's-his-name has…” Her eyebrows crinkle. “Had… has! Nor it can't be traced. Business needs a lift, debts to be erased… think of it as thrift, as a gift... If you get my drift…” She grins at Levi, but frowns at his blank face. 

 

“No? Seems an awful waste. I mean, with the price of meat what it is, when you get it, if you get it.” Hanji winks.

 

Levi’s eyes light up. “Ah…”

 

“Good, you got it!” She claps her hands, happy. “Take, for instance, Mrs. Mooney and her pie shop. Business never better, using only pussycats and toast. And a pussy's good for maybe six or seven at the most. And I'm sure they can't compare as far as taste!” She cackles as Levi stands up,  grinning.

 

“Mrs. Zoe, what a charming notion, eminently practical and yet appropriate, as always.” He snickers and pulls open the curtain blind. “For what's the sound of the world out there?”

 

Hanji bounds next to him, asking, “What, Mr. Ackerman?” Levi replies, “Those crunching noises pervading the air?”   
  


“Yes, Mr. Ackerman, yes!” She joins in his little game. “It's man devouring man, my dear, and who are we to deny it in here?” They laugh together, the sharp noise creating a haunting melody.

 

“These are desperate times, Mrs. Lovett, and desperate measures are called for.” He says, smirking. She nods and plucks one of her pies from the oven, placing it on a tin plate. Placing it in front of Levi, she rests her hands on her chin and smiles.

 

“...What is that?” he asks, softly.

 

“It's priest. Have a little priest.” She snickers. Levi sniffed and asked, “Is it really good?”

 

“Sir! Its too good, at least! Then again, they don't commit sins of the flesh, so it's pretty fresh.” She shrugs as Levi pokes the pie with a fork. “Awful lot of fat.” He comments.

 

“Only where it sat.” She plopped into the seat across from him and rested her chin on her hands. “Haven't you got poet or something like that?” Levi asks. She scoffs, “No, you see the trouble with poet is, how do you know it's deceased? Try the priest!” He smirks and pretends to take a bite, moaning happily.

 

“Heavenly! Not as hearty as bishop, perhaps, but not as bland as curate, either.” Hanji snickers and adds, “ And good for business- always leaves you wanting more. Trouble is, we only get it in Sundays…” She pouts in mock sadness, but brightens. “Lawyer's rather nice!”

 

Levi scowls. “If it’s for a price.” He spits back. Hanji laughs, “Order something else, though, to follow, since no one should swallow it twice!”

 

They laugh, giggling about the image of unsuspecting patrons eating their fellows. They continued to crack jokes, dancing around the shop. If anyone had seen them, they might see a rather strange, but endearing couple entranced with each other.

 

The reality was two murderers in the throes of insanity plotting their latest scheme. And this one would change Fleet Street forevermore.

 

~~~

 

_ A few weeks later… _

 

Thanks to her increasing prosperity, Hanji has created a modest outdoor eating garden outside the pie-shop. Contented customers are filling the garden, devouring their pies, and drinking ale while Eren, in a waiter's apron, drums up trade along the sidewalk. Inside the pie-shop, Hanji, in a gown full of lace, frills, and rouche, doles out pies from the counter and collects a few on a tray to bring into the garden subsequently. Hanji smiles sweetly at the customers, making small chat with them as she set pies in front of them. They gobble the food as though they never ate before.

 

Eren drums his pot and pan together, calling out for people to come into the pie shop. “Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention, perlease? Are your nostrils aquiver and tingling as well at that delicate, luscious ambrosial smell? Yes they are, I can tell. Well, ladies and gentlemen, that aroma enriching the breeze is like nothing compared to its succulent source, as the gourmets among you will tell you, of course. Ladies and gentlemen, you can't imagine the rapture in store!” He smiles and points at the doorstep, making some passerby stop in curiosity.

 

“Just inside of this door!” He sets his makeshift drum down and gestures to the shop. “There you'll sample Mrs. Zoe's meat pies, savory and sweet pies, as you'll see. You who eat pies, Mrs. Zoe's meat pies conjure up the treat pies used to be!” The passerby smile and walk towards the door, exclaiming how delicious the smell of meat in the air was.

 

The current patrons, who must’ve been on their fourth or fifth pie, called out to Eren and Hanji, demanding service.

 

“Over here, boy, how about some ale?”

“Let me have another, laddie!”

“Tell me, are they flavorsome?”

“They are.”

”Isn't this delicious?”

“Right away!”

“Could we have some service over here, boy?”

“Could we have some service, waiter?”

“Could we have some service?”

“Yes, they are.”

“God, that's good!”

“What about that pie, boy?

“Tell me, are they spicy?”

“God, that's good!”

“How much are you charging?”

“Thruppence.”

“Yes, what about the pie, boy?”

“I never tasted anything so…”

“Thruppence?”

“Thruppence for a meat pie?”

“Where's the ale I asked you for, boy?”

“Ladies and gentlemen-!”

 

Hanji noticed Eren’s distress and came to his rescue, chatting with the customers while he ran to get ale. “Nice to see you, dearie... How have you been keeping?...Cor, me bones is weary! Eren-!” She calls to him, pointing at one man. “One for the gentleman! Hear the birdies cheeping- Helps to keep it cheery!” She smiles happily until she notices a hulking mass of rags trying to reach the shop door. “Eren! Throw the old man out!”

 

“Yes, mum!” Eren yelled, getting a broom and shooing the old beggar away from the pie shop. Hanji exhaled in relief and was about to continue chatting but glimpsed a dark figure on the balcony above. Quickly making an excuse of burning food, she rushed into the shop and up the stairs to see Levi pacing the span of his parlor.

 

“Yes, what, love? Quick, though, the trade is brisk.” She huffs, crossing her arms. Levi glares. “But it's six o'clock!”

 

“So it's six o'clock.”

 

“It was due to arrive at a quarter to five-”

 

“And it's six o'clock! I've been waiting all day! But it should have been here by now!” Levi snarls at her, but she is unfazed, used to his spats of anger.

 

And it's probably already down the block! It'll be here, it'll be here! Have a beaker of beer and stop worrying, dear. Now, now…” She pecks him on the cheek and rushes down, down to the fray of customers demanding more pies. She hurriedly began to make more pies, the meat and gravy mixture already mixed. As she cooked, she chatted as well, not noticing the crate being delivered upstairs.

 

“What's my secret? Frankly, dear, forgive my candor, family secret, all to do with herbs. Things like being careful with your coriander, that's what makes the gravy grander!” She winks at the woman asking and they share a laugh. Hanji pops a large tray of pies in the oven while taking out a tray of finished ones. She set them down on the counter and a swarm of people surrounded her, pushing money into her hands. She puts them in the till and hands back change with ease.

 

“Psst!” Hanji’s head whips to the staircase to see Levi stood there, a wicked smile on his face. She pushes Eren at the counter and rushes to him, muttering excuses. They make their way up the stairs and Hanji gasps at seeing the beautifully made barber’s chair.

 

“It's gorgeous! It's perfect! It's gorgeous! You make your few minor adjustments. You take your time, I'll go see to the customers.” Levi tugs a tool box out of the chest near the door, the blood stains faint now. Hanji bustles back down and continues to cook, the customers drunkenly singing and shoving pie after pie down their greedy throats, never guessing that the food could be anything other than beef.

 

After a while, Hanji left Eren to the mob of hungry patrons and zipped up the stairs, pink cheeked with exertion. Levi stood in front of the barber chair, wiping his hands on a spare rag. The chair looked the same as it was before, however Hanji knew its sinister nature was concealed.

 

“Alright, I’ll remind you how it goes.” She rolls her eyes but doesn’t interrupt him. “When I pound the floor, it's a signal to show that I'm ready to go! I just want to be sure.”

 

“Yes, yes, love, I hear you. I’ll be down below, waiting for the whistle to blow.” Hanji sighed, crossing her arms. Levi is unperturbed and continues with, “I'll pound three times.” He demonstrates on the frame of the window. “Three times.” He does it again; she nods impatiently. “And then you-” He growls as she knocks at the air two times. “Three times!” She knocks heavily and wearily on the wall. “If you-” She knocks again, rolling her eyes skyward. “Exactly.”

 

As they decide the little charade, a cain rises up the stairs, exclamations of woe and greed for pies, pies, pies by the dozen. Hanji groans, looking pleadingly down to her mewling customers. Levi tugs her attention back to him and states, “Go, down to the cellar. I want to see if it works.” She nods and rushes down, her bustle bobbing like a headless chickens.

 

Levi tied up a few books together and, giving Hanji sufficient time to get to the cellar, pounds three times on the floor. He smirked as he heard faint, but clear enough pounds on the pipe as well. Levi pulled the lever, and the chair slanted back, becoming a slide for the books to go down, down, down to where Hanji caught them, crowing with glee.

  
Their plan was finally coming into motion.

**Author's Note:**

> Warning! If you spoil the plot of Sweeney Todd in the comments, I WILL delete your comment! Everyone should get a fair reading experience! Anyway, I hope you DO comment, because I want your feedback and support! Thanks!


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